


murky like my heart

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Series: an unquiet mind [3]
Category: From Paris with Love (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, And Wax, And world comes creeping back in, Angst, Blood and Gore, Bubble Bath, Come on who can resist Reece taking a bubble bath?, Established Relationship, Fluff, Horrible memories of past hunts, Horror, Hunters & Hunting, Kissing in a blood soaked bathtub, M/M, Memories, Mention of premonitions, Nicknames, Partners to Lovers, Reece is all for the finer things in life, Reece reflecting on the horrors of the job, Reece trying to relax, Romance, So if that's not your thing..., Trope Bingo Round 12, Wax to the Rescue, Wax will take it when he can get it, Wax's disgusting yet romantic antics, With extra bubbles, can this be a tag?, mention of nightmares, mention of tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 23:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18456644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: It figured that Reece wouldn’t be able to unwind. And it also figured that Wax was never more than a room away.





	murky like my heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same Monsters/Hunters world that my other fics [The Skin Job](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5347634) and [Hang Tight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8870647) are set in. I’m working on several other fics in this series, including one longer than The Skin Job, and will eventually order them and give the series a name. Essentially, Reece and Wax work for a secret government agency that hunts down all manner of monsters who prey on humans. They are both the investigators and the hunters, the only ones who have the skill-set to find out what they’re hunting and then kill it. Reece, like in the film, is more by the books and doesn’t fool around. While Wax, also like in the film, figures you might as well have a little fun while you’re discovering all manner of nasty things. 
> 
> This is also a fill on my Trope Bingo [card](https://immolate-the-silence.dreamwidth.org/30129.html) for Bubble Bath.

 

The water was as hot as Reece could stand it as he relaxed, stretching his legs and wiggling his toes and detaching himself from his crammed head, murky with details and real fears and completely reasonable worries, courtesy of the case they had just wrapped up early this morning. Instead he focused on the water, sinking into every pore until he almost couldn’t stand the heat any longer. He dipped the back of his neck until heat was curling at the southernmost strands of his hair, fingered the glass of lukewarm wine resting inches away with his exposed hand and forced himself to close his eyes.

It wasn’t such an easy feat anymore.

There were real horrors that played on his mind, never letting him forget about how simple he could once pretend the world was even though he always knew it wasn’t. But then he had  _seen_ what nightmares were made of, had watched people die bloody and screaming at terrors a rational mind could never conjure up as they were torn apart, mentally or bodily or sometimes both. He had seen tentacles rush at him faster than he could run and wrap themselves around his legs and pull him to a gaping, fang-ridden, putrid mouth; knew what it felt like for his mouth to be brimming with slime and to be gagging and choking on it, for it to be leaking from his eyes and dripping off his fingertips and coating his entire existence; knew how five showers later couldn’t make him forget or even  _feel_ human again with  _actual_ skin, or even all the ways Wax had devised to distract him. 

He knew the pain of broken ribs and broken limbs and a broken heart for the innocents he couldn’t save. He was intimate with teeth nipping at him and steel buried in him and of falling from heights that should have killed him and of running when he couldn’t even drawn in a decent breath and of brutal visions, brief yet so intense it was a miracle his head didn’t cave in on itself, sharp blades in his consciousness that stole him from sleep and catapulted him into hell and the only things that could make Wax shut up and listen, his mouth drawing into a grim line and his hands bruising on Reece’s shoulders as if he were trying to stop Reece from slipping back into his head forever.

They would tip them off to actual cases or dead ends, but half of Reece’s nightmares were from these  _premonitions._ Things that hadn’t touched him became implanted in his head like memories, words he’d never spoken would haunt his every waking moment for days. Wax was the only one that helped him to distinguish between reality and fantasy, a thin line that was increasingly thinning with his visions increasing in both frequency and intensity. 

Quiet, relaxing moments were few and far between, especially when adding Wax into the mix, so naturally Reece treasured the nights he could soak in an actual bathtub instead of rushing through a two minute shower before Wax shoved him out or - the more likely option - joined him and proceeded to do things to Reece that made him  _anything_ but relaxed or - the even likelier option - until Reece opted to get out and crawl into bed before he passed out and hit his head on the tile and that was the end of James Reece, half-assed psychic and in-over-his-head monster hunter. 

He fought images of blood and slime and inhuman eyes and furry, many-legged, tentacle-ridden  _things_ out of his head and honed in on the heat, untwisting his limbs and turning his skin into comfortable mush and causing him to slip lower into the tub. He choked on bubbles for a long moment before he pushed himself back up. 

Wax would laugh at him right now, soaking in a bath laden with too many bubbles that were even scented; Reece blushed as he breathed in the smell of peaches again. He couldn’t help it. Why shouldn’t he spoil himself a little?

He closed his eyes again, pushing some of the bubbles away and taking a sip from the glass of wine, which had soaked up the warmth from his hand. It still tasted good and Reece wasn’t about to get back up again, not for a good long while. Wax had taken the night off himself and Reece didn’t care where he went off to, only wanted some peace and quiet and some wine and a nice,  _long_ soak in a clean bathtub with the peach scented bubble bath he had been saving for  _exactly_ this occasion. 

A shot rang out through the bathroom and Reece jumped, froze in place and maybe  _wisely_ kept his eyes and mouth closed as something cold and sticky showered his head and face and shoulders. He gasped and then promptly closed his mouth, wiping moisture that  _definitely_ wasn’t water out of his eyes  _before_ opening them. 

“What the  _fuck,_ Wax!”

Wax was hovering in the doorway, holding a shotgun in two meaty hands that was still pointed at Reece, or rather, where  _it_ had been before Wax had blown it into pieces that now amounted to the red mass of guts and carnage and fuck knew what else resting at the base of Reece’s tub. The water was tinged a deep, dark red now, remaining bubbles obscuring whatever else had fallen in with Reece. 

Reece’s eyes widened in terror as he realized how close it had been before Wax had taken it out.

Wax lowered the gun, shoulders relaxing. “How many _times,_ Reece? _Never_ leave the door open. That motherfucking slug was two seconds away from making you its next tasty meal.”

_Slug?_ Reece swallowed heavily and trembled, hand swiping away the wine glass absentmindedly and staring at it dazedly when it shattered upon impact with the tile. A slug infestation in their lovely city of Paris had been their last case and Wax had sounded pretty goddamn certain that they had hunted them all down. It had taken a while, given they could disguise themselves as humans pretty easily, but they had been  _positive_ they’d found all their nests. 

Was this why Wax had come back early? Or had he even left in the first place?

Reece realized it was better not to ask usually where Wax was concerned.

“Jesus Christ.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and then clutched the sides of the tub, preparing himself to get out even when there  _wasn’t_ a towel in sight. 

At that, Wax seemed to loosen up a fraction more. “You took a bath without me, buttercup?”

And the look in his eyes was scaring Reece just a little bit.

In just four steps, Wax was towering over him and stripping off his leather jacket, throwing it across the bathroom and  _almost_ landing on the towel rack. Reece’s eyes widened as he realized what his partner was a beat away from doing. 

He scooted back until he couldn’t go any further, water lapping dangerously against the edges of the tub. “Wax, wait a minute, there’s blood in here now.”  _And whatever else._ As if that was Reece’s  _primary_ concern. Truth was, he and Wax had taken quick showers before but never  _this_ , they’d never shared a bath before, and a bath and a shower were two  _very_ different things. A bath was intimate,  _far_ more intimate, even while they would be partially hidden under bubbles. Reece wasn’t sure he was mentally prepared for  _this_ quite yet. 

Wax grinned, teeth and all. More clothes started flying in different directions and Reece shut his eyes, not that he hadn’t _seen_ Wax plenty of times, just that he wasn’t exactly eager for it right now. He heard Wax chuckling, heard the familiar cadence of his voice that told Reece that he was _safe_ even without registering the specific words, and that the worst that was happening right now was that he was playing with Reece, harmlessly, or at least less harmful than a slug seconds away from eating him. 

“So? There ain't many times I get you like this, so ya think I’m gonna waste one?”

_Please?_ Reece almost asked. All he had wanted was  _one_ quiet night  _alone._ Where he didn’t have to think about anything monster related, where he didn’t try to get a read on Wax, which was virtually impossible, or at least because Reece didn’t have the guts or self-confidence to take him  _literally._

As Reece’s head spun with all of this, Wax’s clothing-less body slipped into the tub, which Reece tried to remind himself  _was_ plenty big enough for the two of them, and his hands grasped Reece’s wrists and moved him until they were at opposite ends. That would have been okay, if Wax didn’t immediately move closer.  _Don’t think about the water, don’t think about the blood, don’t think about how Wax just_ might  _smell like peaches after this, just_ don’t. 

And Reece spluttered, trying to come up with an excuse for Wax or for him to leave, preferably the latter, but Wax’s indulgent kiss, tongue and all, felt like a punch to the gut, even more so than  _usual_ and, oh yeah, just a bit sweeter than usual too, a warmth that far out-rivaled the once initial heat of the water and it was slowly spreading through Reece’s belly and head and even through all his excuses and reasons,  _good_ reasons for pushing Wax away until Reece blushed and  _hungered_ , fingers curling around Wax’s hair-ridden naked chest, returning the kiss  _just a little_ , not even enough really to mention, until that heat spread to  _another_ area as well. 

And Wax’s face lit up like the sun upon noticing  _that._ “Happy one year anniversary, baby,” Wax breathed, nipping Reece’s bottom lip playfully. 

And Reece decided not to waste Wax  _actually_ remembering something important on stupid and foolish excuses like willpower or insecurity or denial that this was really happening right now. 

He ignored the blood and the guts withering below them and slung his arms around Wax’s neck and focused on that one perfect, relaxing, bubble bath filled night after all…

“Peaches, huh?” Wax laughed into his ear. “It’s okay. I’m not judging. Although, I’m a vanilla guy myself, Reese cup.”

Reece bit his ear to shut him up. His perfect night wasn’t about to be spoiled a second time.

**FIN**

 


End file.
